Strawberry Kisses by Phavy Prieto (always you kirsty moseley .TXT) 📕

male voice that made me hold my breath because of the masculinity it transmitted. I did not even have time to answer, when I heard, "Because I think that at this hour you had an appointment with an orgasm..."

Oh my God! It was him! It was Damian Devoir!

Wait, wait... Did you just say what I heard?

Something told me yes.

"Are you calling me to give back my planner or to find out if I've reached it?" I ventured with a certain impudence. To my surprise, I heard a loud laugh on the other side of the phone. I got up, leaving the laptop closed on the sofa, a mania of those who can never talk on the phone while sitting.

"Actually, I'm still thinking about it," the guy replied casually.

If he wasn't so cool, I would have slapped him already. Well, I won't give it to him because he's cool and because he's the boss of all my bosses. Don't forget who you're talking to, Maria.

"Well, you'd better decide quickly because I'm a pretty busy woman," I said dryly.

“I think I've already deduced that from your planner. I just had to take a quick look to realize how busy you are. And this writing everything down quirk... doesn't it seem a bit strange to you?"

"If you want to imply that I'm a strange person, I'll tell you I'm not, I'm a limited edition," I replied as formally as possible while I bit my lip and looked at the ceiling.

"Limited edition?" he asked and burst out laughing again. "Yes... I'm starting to think that you are, Miss Acosta."

"So are you going to give me back my planner?" I asked annoyed.

"Maybe."

Maybe? What do you mean "maybe"? What the hell was that answer? Certainly "maybe" was not the answer I wanted to hear.

"I need my planner," I said, trying to stay calm.

"And I need a new shirt," he argued in his defense.

"Fantastic, I'll give you the money to buy a new one," I replied, on the verge of losing my patience.

Or, if you prefer, you can stick it in that perfect ass of yours, I thought lasciviously.

"No," he replied. I clenched my teeth even harder to the point that my lip bled.

"Ouch! Shit!" I said putting a hand on my lip which was stained with blood.

"Something happened?"

"Yes! Of course something happened!" I exclaimed furiously. "You can't go around stealing other people's belongings!"

"If you want me to return your planner so badly, you will have to earn it," he replied with such a calm that made me even more furious.

"What are you suggesting, Mr. Devoir?" I asked bluntly.

"If I told you I'd be sharing a secret of mine."

What kind of answer is that? I'm more confused than a flea in a plush toy.

"Please explain, what the hell you had in mind when you called me?"

"To know if you were following your schedule and if you wanted me to remind you of what you had planned for tomorrow, of course," he immediately replied.

And I have to thank you for the favour too, right?

I was silent for a moment because I only wanted to tell him one thing, "As for me, you can go fuck yourself!"

"Did you hear me? Are you still there?" he said.

"Yeah, it's just that I voluntarily suffer from selective deafness from time to time," I replied and heard a faint laughter from him.

“Well, I must confess that you have wonderful eyes, Miss Acosta. I hope your condition doesn't stop you from hearing my last words."

He hung up before I could answer. Had he paid me a compliment or had I dreamed of it? I was completely lost.

After less than ten minutes on the sofa my phone rang again: once again a call from an unknown number. Was it him again? Here's what happens when you don't register a number in your contacts!

"Hello?" I replied anxiously, hoping that he still had an intention to give me back the planner.

"Maria?" I heard a voice with an English accent that caused a sudden gastroesophageal reflux.

"If it's Mathews' cousin, Nerea will end up badly," I thought immediately.

"I don't know... I think you got the wrong..." I replied almost automatically.

"Maria! It's Steven, Mathews' cousin!" he cut me out immediately.

There, get ready, Nerea, I am coming to kill you. Why did you give him my phone number, if the guy is uglier than a refrigerator seen from behind?

"Oh yes!" I said after making the mistake of speaking so he could recognize my voice. "I am busy at the moment."

"Would you like to have dinner together tomorrow?" he asked directly.

Was it not clear enough to him how little I liked him?

"Tomorrow?" I asked. "No, you kidding? Impossible!"

"All right. The day after tomorrow then?"

"Even worse! I'm very busy at work and it's not a good time. "

"You are very pretty..."

Yeah, thanks. Unfortunately for you, not even your mother would say that to you.

"Er... thanks," I said, almost annoyed. "I have to go, Steven. If anything, you’ll be hearing from me."

"Can't you really come and have dinner with me tomorrow?" he insisted.

"No," I said again. "Among other things, I'm on a diet," I confessed and that at least was true. After having swallowed ten Kinder Buenos I had two options: to start the diet or to make my friends get fat, so that they could not make fun of me.

"Even if I'm right next to your house?" he said as a last resort.

"I’ll kill her... I will kill her," I thought referring to my supposed friend. "How the hell did it occur to her to tell him where we lived?"

"Look, Steven, I'm very tired. Some other time," I repeated.

And that day we will meet in Neverland.

"Come on...